What It's About

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Through the trials and snares and
difficulties of life, when much of the time we might feel beaten down, there is
an urgency in the heart, the soul desperate for God’s help, searching for a way
to overcome the burden.

The heaviest burden is that of
being unloved and, multitudes worse, unlovable.

Many would brashly say they never
feel unloved or unlovable. Truth is we’ve felt those emotions; of abandonment;
whether initiated in childhood or adulthood. Why is it that the Bible goes to
great pains to say God never leaves us nor forsakes us? God knows how
susceptible we are.

It’s okay. It has to be okay. It’s
just the way it is.

Today is the day the Lord has made (Psalm 118:24). And today,
each day, with great intention, we have the opportunity, afresh, to live like
we’re loved. This is the choice to allow the truth to form up, move, and find
its true home: within, dearly loved.

The truth of God’s inimitable love
is known with assurance by faith; the strongest of knowledges. Nothing can rock
an understanding of God bequeathing us life, in our unique bodies, replete with
mind and soul and spirit, to be me and you, for the entirety of our days — and then,
e t e r n i t y.

The fact of death is one proof of
God’s love, that He would want us back, face-to-face with Himself, so we’re
able to enjoy Him all the more; us, His beloved.

When we live like we’re loved, joy,
peace, and hope are embodied within, and a humble confidence exudes our being, to
live like a human being was always meant to.

When we live like we’re loved,
because we’re not simply liked, God gives us love’s purpose to live that our
souls ever crave.

When we live like we’re loved, God
gives us love’s purpose to live, and finally our soul is content.

We will never be truly happy until
we feel safe in our relationship with God. Then we live like we’re loved.

To live like we’re loved is today’s
opportunity; to live in the truth like the best thing happened, because it has.

Living like we’re loved is agreeing
with the narrative of God’s story. It’s not simply an opportunity, it becomes
the only obligation instituted by grace, to trust and obey.

Monday, November 28, 2016

When I first
received my driver’s licence I loved to spin my wheels. Doing rollbacks and burnouts
on a particular concrete pad in the industrial area of the town I lived in was
a pet pastime for me and my friends. That was until the Police caught us. We
were hauled off to the Station. In fear of being prosecuted, we responded well
to the lecture given to us. What the policeman said that day has stuck with me
ever since: “Having a driver’s licence is not a right, it’s a privilege.”

That concept has
broad merit in every facet of life. There are far more privileges in life than
there are rights.

Yet ‘privilege’ is a
word that hasn’t had a good following of late. We hear it in the context of
‘white male privilege’ and we associate it with bad things. But there is a vast
difference between the noun — ‘he belongs to a privileged class’ — and the verb
— ‘she was given the privilege of partaking in…’

Here are five
remarkable differences between a right and a privilege:

1.Rights cannot reasonably be withheld, but privileges can. Many
things we think of as a right are actually a privilege. And yet, rights are
withheld from people when there is abuse. Rights can be abused, but privileges
that are withheld are never an abuse. Perhaps that which can be withheld, but
isn’t an abuse, is a privilege.

2.Privilege cannot be earned. It can only be received or
bestowed as a gift. We shouldn’t work for privileges based on earning them, as
it’s the wrong motive. Rights, neither, are earned; it’s a bad and sad
situation (abuse) where someone needs to earn a right. Being respected, for
instance, is a right, not a privilege; we should never need to earn humane
respect. When we make privilege into a right we end up in an entitlement
culture. When we make a right into a privilege we end up acting inappropriately
and propagate abuse.

3.Rights are inclusive, whereas privilege is exclusive. But
it’s inappropriate, and an abuse, when certain demographics of society are
ascribed privilege and perquisites and other demographics are disadvantaged and
dishonoured for who they are. Privileges ought to be universally attainable,
and rights universally attributed.

4.We live better when we consider every bit of life a
privilege. Then gratitude is the output and joy is all ours, no matter what we
don’t have. Life is not a right in the perfect sense of the word (i.e., we
can’t demand to never die), but there is a right to life. If we treat life more
as a privilege than as a right, we enjoy life more.

5.Rights are about dignifying people, yet a special dignity is
bestowed on the person receiving a privilege. But everyone is entitled to have
their dignity respected, which is the cherished honour of being human, but
privilege is some extra portion which, for the purposes of respect, should be
accessible to everyone.

Privileges are
discretionary and ought not to be enjoyed for who we are. Rights are
non-discretionary and ought to be enjoyed by all.

Friday, November 25, 2016

As soft drink ran down the wall of
the toilet cubicle onto my foot (I was in the adjacent cubicle) I was
indignantly curious who was making this vandalising mess. A can was thrown into
the cubicle I was in, and it was on. I made myself ‘decent’ and opened the door
challenging the two fourteen-year-old boys responsible. I told the boy who had
made the mess that he better get started in cleaning it up as I challenged
their disrespectful behaviour, telling them that imagine being the cleaner
cleaning their mess us if they didn’t clean it up themselves — that wouldn’t be
fair.

But God laid something on my heart
for these two. They seemed to respond to my chastising them, even if they did
mock me a little, which I laughed at.

Later it came to pass that one of
them had a story, so I asked him to share it with me. It was a sad family story
of abandonment. It seemingly didn’t bother this boy that his father had
abandoned him. He may have gotten used to the idea that his father had little
interest in him, but I didn’t buy for one moment that he wasn’t identified by
that rejection.

I then saw his earlier behaviour in
context.

I saw something in this young man that
lacks trust in an adult world that has betrayed him at his core. Nobody can
create this distrust in a young man more than a father who abandoned him. So,
he learned to take the law into own hands. If you cannot trust people you don’t
allow them even a chance at being trusted.

Everyone has their story, and that
story informs who they are.

People are not racist, rapist,
violent, war-mongers for no reason. Paedophiles are what they are for a reason.
There is always a reason.

When we see the cause-and-effect
nature in people’s lives, empathy is hatched, compassion spreads it wings, and
kindness soars.

When we see the inputs into people’s
lives equal, more or less, their outcomes, that the inputs were outside their
control, we’re suddenly much less judgmental.

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Names are important.
They have the capacity to bless us or make us feel extremely vulnerable. There
is great power in a name.

Think of the
derogatory names you were called at school or as a child. Or, the nicknames
that have stuck with you, though you despised them. Those names that stick — those
names we hate — have the power to haunt us into anxious self-consciousness.

Think about the times
when people have referred to you by name, or better, used your name in the
sentences they use when talking with you; the use of your name conveyed
interest and care for you.

I have found the
following to be true: whenever I meet new people I find I can remember their
name much better if I have an emotional engagement with the person. Like the
girl that I met who, on the second occasion, seemed particularly devastated
that I had forgotten her name. That was the last time I forgot her name. Or the
boy who shared with me how he felt about being bullied. I adopted his name and
his story from that day onward.

Names are the key to
hearts. ‘Sticks ‘n’ stones’ was untrue. Sticks and stones may break bones, but
names have the potential to break spirits. Equally, names, used appropriately,
have the potential to validate the identity of and empower a person.

A person who cares
for another person will take care to refer to them by name. But a person who
does not care will resort to name-calling. Both usages of names have great
power. Which power will we employ?

Will we commit to
showing interest in and care for people by referring to them by their name?

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Do you ever find yourself feeling
foolish for resisting what you feel you could have embraced? — as a product of
hindsight. I had one of these experiences recently. I loathed the thought of
doing a thing, and yet, in the doing of that thing, God spoke through it
powerfully.

My youngest daughter had a car accident
with a fence. She was upset that she had damaged her car, but there was this
fence damage, and I’m better with fixing fences than her mother is.

We went to Bunnings and selected
the materials we needed to complete the job, loaded the trailer, and gave ‘Reg’
a call on the way. Mentioning what materials we had just bought, Reg (who I’d
not met before) promptly said, “There’s two rails that are damaged, too;
they’ll need replacing.” There was silence on my end of the line. We would need
to make another trip to Bunnings! I was not impressed, but I have learned to
say nothing at times when my blood’s boiling. Reg responded in an unexpectedly
kind way. It helped. We arrived and looked at what extra things we needed. As
we left to go back to Bunnings for the extra items, Reg said to me, “Bless
you.”

“Bless you.” This guy’s a believer
I thought. So, I asked. He was. We spoke for a few more minutes, then I prayed,
for him and I. I prayed a penitent prayer, that I had not seen this work as
Kingdom work. It was obviously kingdom work. Reg needed a hand to do this job,
because he doesn’t have the capacity to do a job like this. Reg, a community
elder on The Crucible Project, was so thankful, yet we were there simply to
reconcile matters through restitution.

God knew what Reg needed. He knew
what I needed.

Fixing the fence was challenging
work, but it was not without its reward. Reg and I enjoyed some godly
fellowship. It was a difficult job that nearly defeated us both at one point,
but we finished the repairs in less than a few hours.

Sometimes God wants us to get on
with the work right in front of us. As we do that, in faith, He shows up in unexpected
ways.

For me, I simply needed to get on
with fixing the fence. I wasn’t until I engaged in the work that God in the
work began to bless me.

Thursday, November 17, 2016

It’s our human default to feel life
should be easier than it is; we think we have a hard life. No matter how glitzy
our social media looks, we all feel unfortunate, at least from time to time. But
there are those who are genuinely unfortunate — those with a lot to lose and
those with nothing left to lose.

Even the person who seems to have
life easy has it hard. The unmotivated lazy person, for instance, isn’t doing
life easy, no matter how hard we’re doing ours, even if they appear never to
have to work hard. They have not only a tough present, where fear for the
future controls them, their future really is laced with uncertainty.

The rich and ‘blessed’ person is no
better off; their riches threaten to evaporate when fortunes change, and it’s a
biblical principle rooted in the truth of history that riches typically last
three generations at most. The rich cannot secure their wealth for those coming
after them. It depends on factors outside the realm of performance.

Then there is Joe You-and-Me. We
run the gauntlet of life and we’re blessed in the keeping up — but we must keep
up, and that’s stressful. Many days and many times during such days we feel
life is unfair. We commonly look past many blessings, and that’s because it’s
only within the capacity of hard work that blessings are commonly realised. We
have to manage our fatigue, and where burnout is a possibility, coping measures
must be learned, and that’s an arduous trek!

Finally, there is the person who
doesn’t feel they struggle much at all, though if we were living their life we
might disagree. Some of these people appear to live fortunate lives, but the
operative word is ‘appear’.

Everybody’s life is hard. Nobody
gets it easy. It’s when we think some have it easy, we feel we have life
especially hard. And that perception is fair on neither them nor us.

What helps us in our struggle is
the knowledge that everyone has their struggle.

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

That awkward moment
when pride is exposed for what it is! That time when a true friend had the
pluck to challenge us with the truth. When their courage flouted the
relationship enough to pique growth rather than give in to the cowardice that
resists conflict for fear of rejection.

That moment, these
moments, are the moments of last chance; of reconciling the lie of pride with
the truth of humility’s capacity to respectfully pour contempt on that pride.

There’s no need to
suffer the fall (Proverbs 16:18) when someone’s brave enough to love us through
a challenge.

Sure, not all
challenges are couched lovingly, nor are they all complicit with the truth, but
all challenges can be heard, as impetus for God to test our hearts (Ps.
139:23-24).

It’s all God requires of us; to peer into the glories
of His truth. And as we direct our senses rightfully, God gives us the
reasonability to rationalise what would otherwise be too hard for us to bear;
in our pride.

But pride doesn’t have
to have the final say, besmirching our character. At the very moment where
pride rises, insecurity peaking, we still have the opportunity of awareness;
the strength of surrender to give ourselves over to the truth, which is
humility.

Honesty requires
courage, and with bravery, undergirded by faith, a person is humble.

When pride rises, as
it is about to make us look foolish, reason supplies the opportunity of choice;
to prefer humility, which is honesty.

Before pride gets us
into a world of trouble, we have the opportunity of choice, to take the humble
approach.

Pray for
perspective, to hear God’s Spirit in the silence of your soul, for the ability to
respond well.

Saturday, November 12, 2016

My 'tender' bear given to me by my wife at a time in our marriage when I needed to be tenderer.

I’m a person with good capacity for
thought, but if I’m honest, I have a fine thermostat that’s sensitive to the
temperature of my emotions. These emotions are almost always well checked in
professional life, but where I can’t seem to help myself at times is in the
home. This comes to bear when I have the perception of time pressure. Perception is the key word. Enough about
one of my emotional frailties.

Recently there was a situation
where I became frustrated in the presence of my wife and son — not at them, but
with them around. I didn’t hear it at first, but I heard my son about the third
time saying calmly, “Take one step back.” Sensing my reason returning, and
probably somewhat because of his intervention, I quickly recognised he was
implementing his own emotional regulating system (that his mother has taught
him, and we both reinforce); this time with me. And I had the poise to do as he
said. I stepped back. Then he said, in his calmest supportive voice, “Now have
a think about it.”

I did. I thought about it. I
glanced at my wife, and that one look created a connection. We both thought, “Wow.”

This was not simply an opportunity
to regulate my emotion. It was not only an opportunity to reinforce his
procedure, to show him how it works for others, too. But it was also an
opportunity to build him up by allowing him to care for someone. Imagine if I
reacted angrily and said, “Quiet, child! I’m the parent; don’t tell me what to
do!” not only would the opportunities vanish, he would be unjustly scolded when
he had detected my mood correctly, was operating out of the only system he
knows, and he was doing it in a caring way.

Now it may run against every parenting
fibre in you to entertain letting a child ‘parent’ you, but think about it:
responsible, logical, reasonable, rational, and reliable behaviour is paramount;
to model, no matter who it is, that adult behaviours trump childish behaviours.
Remember childish behaviours are not the solemn domain of children. Adults have
the capacity to behave childishly, too.

Our children need to learn justice
from us, through us, their parents.

For me, I’m thankful that I had the
composure to respond as I did. Instead of crushing my child’s spirit by chiding
him through unchecked pride, I simply showed him how his method of regulating
emotion works for me; as it would work for everyone.

A minute after the exchange took
place, I took him in my arms and thanked him for helping me; what I saw in his
reaction filled my heart with the things of God. Appreciating justice, as we
all do, he loved being thanked and simply said, “You’re welcome.”

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Watching Australian Test cricketer, David Warner, bat at the WACA, Perth.

It had been a busy day for all of
us in our separate endeavours when anger struck. Not a parent, but a child.
Time was slipping away and there was cleaning up to do and a bath to be had,
and all this before pre-bedtime reading. Dad was a bit stressed, trying to give
Mum some relief after her exhausting day. A Dad picked this moment to stand
firm on his ground! The result? The child goes ballistic.

What is wrong with this picture?
The father has no control over his child. The child is being horribly
disobedient. Nothing is being accomplished. Well, perhaps it’s only the latter
that was true.

At one crucial point, the three-year-old
child, insisting he needs his own time out (something he’s been taught to do to
regulate his emotions), which Dad felt he had had enough of, goes against his
own judgment and comes calmly to press his body against Dad’s. An angry,
exasperated child gives a hug! At that very moment, Mum watching on, says to
her son, “Have you missed us today?” Son, looking at neither parent, gives a
little nod. “I think he’s not had enough time with us today, Dad,” Mum says.

“Fathers, don’t exasperate your children by coming down hard on them.
Take them by the hand and lead them in the way of the Master.”

— Ephesians 6:4 (The Message)

This paraphrase of a verse out of
Paul’s letter to the Ephesians sums it all up. Because of the time pressure,
and my need to get on with the many tasks that still needed doing, I was taking
control. And exasperating my child was a by-product. I had forgotten his age,
his routine, his need for process to control his emotions, and I was standing
firm. All I did was make the situation worse. Far from anything at all resembling
permissive parenting, in running things by my own agenda I was not leading him
in the way of the Master, Jesus.

And what was the catalyst that
shifted the mood of an exasperated child? The child’s calm and deliberate move
toward his father and to press his body against mine. Seconds earlier we were
fighting and he was scratching and pinching my face. But now calmness. It was
something Mum said. Something she said resonated with, and importantly,
softened, his passionate, precious little heart.

“A gentle answer turns away
wrath,
but a harsh word stirs up anger.”

— Proverbs 15:1 (NIV)

The following interaction on the
floor between the three of us was beautiful. All the anger had ebbed away, and
there was only room now for empathy. Our son had had very little time with his
parents. We had missed him, and he, us. So, we spent that time; just a few
minutes. Then it was onto the evening’s activities, like bath time.

Not only can we expect too much of
our children when we expect them to sync with our timeframes, we often don’t
make a way for their developing emotions. How are our children to behave exemplarily
when we fall so far from that hallowed mark? In this situation, our son was
doing what he had been taught to do; spend time reflecting to improve his
behaviour. I was punishing him for doing the right thing! That’s a rough justice
in anyone’s terms, but sometimes, as parents, we justify our methods and
actions to the detriment of our children (at least I have).

As adults, too, we must remember
how easily we, like our children, feel out of control and at the whim of
others, especially those with power, like us as parents.

In this episode of family life, I
learned a dear lesson. God used my son to teach me what I could not otherwise
learn: we must slow down and respect everyone if we expect to make good progress.

Saturday, November 5, 2016

I’ve become more aware recently of
the child sensitivities within, which are common to us all. It’s easy to see these sensitivities within
children — I’ve certainly seen them in my pre-school-aged son, and within the
students I work with. But we don’t see the dynamics of sensitivity within
ourselves, or perhaps we’re aware we’re oversensitive.

It was when my son fell and injured
his arm suddenly that I was reminded of his sensitivity — and of mine. Not only
was his sensitivity piqued more than normal, as an experienced father (I’ve
been doing it now for quarter of a century!) I still felt all at sea, even if I
had the composure to do what needed doing in getting him to hospital.
Immediately, I was in a mode of wanting to protect him, and that instinctive
drive was, if anything, an overreaction. Call it love in fear for the worst.
The more sensitive he is, the more sensitive I am. And that corresponds with
the sensitivities-of-response I share with my daughters when they’re vulnerable.

This interaction with our
sensitivities sparked the following thought:

There is a continuum of sensitivity
based on vulnerability-and-self-protection in the world. The sensitive person
who is uncomfortably vulnerable, because they haven’t yet harnessed the protective
behaviours they need to offset their vulnerabilities, is especially vulnerable
to bullies, who overcapitalise on inappropriate self-protection. Then there’s the
response of the person who is well on their way within the journey of integrating
appropriate self-protection with their vulnerability. The mature person’s
response is a balance between appropriate self-protection with their
vulnerability.

***

Sensitive people become targets of
bullies because bullies are uncomfortable with the vulnerability shared.
Bullies exist within a bubble of inappropriate self-protection; a façade of veneer-thin
strength (really, a house of cards). So, they have less emotional health than a
sensitive person with a lack of self-protection through inappropriate levels of
self-disclosure. A bully has neither vulnerability nor appropriate
self-protection to draw on.

Sensitive people can grow through
mastery of appropriate protection, which is knowing when and how to be appropriately
vulnerable.

We’re all sensitive. For some it’s
obvious, for others a lack of sensitivity is a façade, and for others, again,
it’s a journey to appropriately self-protect.

God desires we would all relate
appropriately with that which He’s made us sensitive. It’s a journey, however,
in becoming appropriately self-aware and socially-aware so we employ
appropriate self-protection.

We can think of the true
sensitivities within us all as the child growing up and being allowed to be the
child again. Adulthood should bear all the advantages of childhood without
having to bear with the disadvantages.

Friday, November 4, 2016

All Souls’ Day (November 2) coincides
with an annual period of remembrance for our family — the time between October
30 and November 7, when we lost our son to stillbirth and were allowed 179 hallowed
hours with him before we said our final goodbye. It’s a time that will never be
insignificant. Each year we get away to a quiet place to appropriately
solemnify this precious period. And yet this is only the second time we’ve done
it. His life, from conception to completion, took place within the year 2014.

Our hearts still ask heaven, why? A
mystery contends with our understanding, and until we go to be with him we
shall not know.

For all souls departed there is
that mystery; but we can pray for them, thanking God for them, and how they
graced our lives, however short (or cut short) their lives were. And we may
also thank God for the paradoxical emotions in grief — God has visited us by
His Presence in the very matters of the depths He has spoken into our souls. We
have been graced sufficiently to know God at a deeper level because of our loss of Nathanael. This
knowledge is His sacred trust to us that makes our trust in Him both a sacred
and a trustworthy knowledge. Faith, from this aspect, is more amenable after
grief.

So many of us have lost loved ones.
Grief is a spiritual calamity that nobody is spared.

Death is a mystery, and for the
souls of all those departed, we hold them lightly in the heart and on the mind;
much more and it is too great a burden to bear. God touches us through our
vulnerability; we cannot see beyond the curtain separating us from eternity.

We’re reminded:

Moments
come and moments go,

yet all
moments echo eternally.

We don’t
realise until some moments are gone,

how indelibly precious they were.

Each moment with
loved and dear ones is a precious gift from God, Himself. Each moment with each
person in every situation. With everything available to us in life we must,
with it, choose to live.

And for those
who are gone, indeed for those we dearly miss, we can pray; we have a
definitive connection with God in eternity because of them!

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

One recent morning, having had a
woeful day previously, where frustrations wore me so thin I flew into more than
one flight of rage (not with others, but in my own private torment) I was
resurrected.

Do you ever get that feeling?
Having been stood within the acid of the world’s acridity, having faced the infamy
of my own failure, having tasted the censure of my own despair, God confronted
me with His newness. Isaiah
43:18-19, again, came into my lived experience. From one day where I
sorely felt the desire to give up, resurrection came the day following.

Because of this new thing.

Because. Ever
thought about the etymology of the word? It BE for the CAUSE. The CAUSE is
something that BE. The cause is ever there.

BE CAUSE of what’s mine, I walk the
line — I do whatever God requires of me, to live, to work, to prosper, to
support; anything and everything He requires.

Who are they who are mine? My
family, of course.

The Lord shared with me the vision
of my death, the death of my wife, my son, each of my daughters. It was a
precious compendium of images. Looking back from several possibilities of
death, God could show me just how prized life is. Any of our deaths change
things, forever, in the realm of this existence.

Without a concept of death in mind,
we take life too much for granted. God reminds us how real He is in the concept
of our deaths. If life doesn’t get our attention, then death just must. In
death, life becomes ethereal. In death, life has its maximum meaning.

Because my son is mine, I walk the
line. I work a job (of three presently) that tries my patience to the point of
despair occasionally. I walk that line, and pray that I might ever live, for
him; for his wellbeing. Because my son is mine, I do not give up. I cannot just
give up a job I find hard. I must provide. And I must keep going. But I
sympathise with anyone who didn’t make it, because (that word again) that could
so easily have been me. It almost was.

Because my wife is mine, I walk the
line. I spend my time with her, because much earlier in our history I chose to.
Even if I got bored, I’m not going back on that choice. The fact is I fall ever
more in love with her with each day that passes, and it’s not just a cliché. I
get less of my own way than ever, but in my marriage I’ve never been happier.
The sound of her voice, her visual presence, the thought of her in other people’s
lives when I’m not around, the way she listens, and her wisdom and
faithfulness; all these things and more bring me uncontainable joy.

Because my daughters are mine, I
walk the line. I’m there for them, and ensure, even when I don’t agree with
what they do, that they have my love, which is the support of my joy at their
sheer presence and my practical presence in their lives. And the joys God has
given me in watching them grow, overcoming the occasional temptation of being a
critical-spirited father, I simply enjoy, because they’re mine. So, I walk the
line.

The CAUSE of my NEED
to WALK THE LINE
is they’re MINE.

Because life is dear and precious
and to be cherished, I walk the line, because of what’s mine; what God’s given
to me. Life ought to teach us to value everything that God has given us.